It Was The Winter Wild, While The

Eye Me, Blest Providence, And Square My Trial To My Proportion'd Strength.

... Then There Was War In Heaven. But It Was Not Angels. It Was That Small Golden Zeppelin, Like A Long Oval World, High Up. It Seemed As If The Cosmic Order Were Gone, As If There Had Come A New Order, A New Heavens Above Us: And As If The World In Anger Were Trying To Revoke It.

Truth Is As Impossible To Be Soiled By Any Outward Touch As The Sunbeam.

And What Is Faith, Love, Virtue Unassayed Alone, Without Exterior Help Sustained?

See Golden Days, Fruitful Of Golden Deeds, With Joy And Love Triumphing.